


Apropos of Nothing

by merelypassingtime



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 05:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20148238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: A puzzled Tony starts receiving philosophical late night texts from Stephen.





	Apropos of Nothing

**Are you awake?**

Tony looked at the text from Stephen, puzzled.

Not that it was all that odd for Stephen to text him, in the few weeks since they started dating and since Tony gave him a phone, they had traded a lot of texts, both mundane and not safe for work. But that had almost exclusively been during the daytime, because Stephen was one of those incomprehensible early raisers, a fact he blamed on being raised on a farm and that Tony credited to dark mystical powers. 

Either way, it was unusual to hear from the sorcerer much passed ten. Now, at just shy of three AM, Stephen was usually long since in bed and somehow both sleeping and catching up on his reading. Only globally threatening events shook what he called Stephen’s old man bedtime. 

Tony asked Friday to scan the news and run a quick diagnostic scan on the nano suit just in case of trouble before he typed out an answer.

_Sleep is for the weak._

Stephen’s response was quick. **Or the sane.**

_Don’t forget, you’re up right now too,_ Tony pointed out.

**Not by choice.**

_Oh? Anything you need help with?_

**No, I was just thinking.**

_About what?_

There was a long pause this time, then, **You know, nevermind. It looks really stupid typed out.**

_That’s not fair! Now I’m really curious._

**Fine. I was just wondering why are there so many flavors of apple. No one actually eats apples anymore.**

Tony wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he knew it hadn’t been that. For several seconds he just stared at the non-sequitur, unsure how to reply.

Stephen must have felt judgement in his silence because he added, **See, I warned you it was dumb. It just felt so profound when I thought it and I wanted to share it. Sorry.**

_No, no,_ Tony typed back. He was no stranger to late night epiphanies himself, and if poor Rhodey had a dollar for every time Tony woke him with a ‘brilliant’ idea, he’d be a billionaire too. Tony was actually flattered that Stephen had chosen him to share his thoughts with. _You’ve got me all wrong! I was rendered speechless by your insight!_

**Liar.**

_Maybe a little. I was actually thinking that your opinion of apples was unfairly biased._

**Biased how?**

_By you being a doctor._

**So?**

_Well, apples are known for their doctor repelling powers._

**Ugh. I walked right into that one didn’t I?**

_Yup!_ Tony typed, adding a broadly grinning emoji. 

**Smug bastard. I still stand by my hypothesis though: Apples are gross. **

_I like apples._

**You would,** Stephen accused.

_Yeah, I like all sorts of STRANGE stuff._

**Was that another joke?**

_Maybe._

**I hate you so much.**

_No you don’t._

**No, I don’t. But I hate that pun.**

_I’ll allow that. ;)_

When several minutes passed with no answer, Tony shrugged off the exchange and went back to work. By the next time he saw Stephen, he’d forgotten the last night exchange. Until it happened again.

It was several days later when the opening line from “Do You Believe in Magic” played, waking Tony up from a rare sound sleep.

Groggy, he muttered, “Friday, display.”

Flipping over to his back, he peered up at the text message now projected across his ceiling.

**Are you up?**

I am now Tony thought, but out loud he said, “Friday, text back, ‘I’m always up for you, baby.”

**Was that a double entendre?**

_Only if it worked._

**It didn’t.**

_Then no, it wasn’t. You have such a dirty mind Doctor._

**With good reason, Mister.**

_Well, if this isn’t a booty texted, what do you need?_

**In a fight between you and Leonardo da Vinci, who do you think would win?**

“What?” Tony asked the ceiling aloud.

Friday typed the word out for him and asked, “Send reply, boss?”

Tony almost said no, but it really was the only reply he could of.

Stephen’s response didn’t help much. **Well, you know, since you are ‘The da Vinci of our time’ do you think you could beat the actual da Vinci in a fight?**

_What sort of fight? Like an invention-off?_

**No, like a fist fight.**

_Why would I want to fight him?_

**Maybe he insulted your honor...**

_Can’t insult something that I don’t have._

**That’s not true.**

_Whatever you say. I’m still not going to fight da Vinci over an insult._

**Okay, what if it was just for fun? Like a match for charity or something…**

Tony, now completely awake, really thought about it. He asked, _Would we be the same age in the fight?_

**Yeah, of course.**

_Then totally me. I think he was a lover, not a fighter._

**Are you sure? He looks like he’d have a lot of reach on you, shorty**.

_ Hey! I can’t believe you doubt me! If you want to bet on it, you do have a time stone._

There was a long pause before Stephen answered and Tony wondered if he should be getting ready for Stephen to portal into his room and take him through time. He was considering what one wore to fight historical geniuses when he finally got another text. 

**Tempting, but Wong would kill me.**

_Yeah, in a fight between you and Wong, I’d bet on Wong._

When there was no reply, Tony wondered if he’d offended Stephen. He worried about it until sleep reluctantly reclaimed him.

The third time, Stephen didn’t need to text him because he was laying next to the sleeping sorcerer, flipping through the blueprints of the Sanctum and planning upgrades, when he suddenly sat upright. Using one hand to massage the other, he said in a surprisingly clear voice, “M&Ms are the only test of a person’s character that the world needs.”

Tony clicked his pad off, gathering his thoughts as he set it down on the nightstand. Then he sat up himself and scooted across the large bed until he could wrap an arm around Stephen. Resting his head on a shoulder, Tony said, “That is an interesting theory. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Well, we all know that the only sane and reasonable way to eat M&Ms is to sort them by color and eat them in order, right?”

“Granted,” Tony agreed with mock gravity, turning to hide his smile against the sleeve of Stephen’s pajama top.

“So, logically, all we’d need to do to know if someone is trustworthy is to set them in a room with a bowl of M&Ms for a few minutes, then watch them.”

“And if they eat the M&Ms randomly, they are not to be trusted?”

“Clearly.”

“I can’t fault your logic, but what if they don’t like chocolate?”

After a moment of heavy thought, Stephen replied, “We’d try again with Reese’s Pieces, than Skittles. If neither of those work, then the person is evil by default.”

He sounded so serious that Tony had to muffle his laughter by kissing Stphen’s shoulder. 

When he had it under control, he asked, “Would the order they eat them in matter?”

“Any order is acceptable, but people who eat all of one color first are on thin ice.”

“And people who arrange the M&Ms into a design, then eat them?”

“They are the most trustworthy of all.”

“You know,” Tony said. “Suddenly, I’m very suspicious about the bag of M&Ms you insisted on buying me at the movies on our first date.”

“Well, you passed, didn’t you?”

“Thus, disproving your theory about it weeding out the crazies.”

Stephen, hummed in agreement. “You always are the exception to the rule.”

“Exceptional, that’s me.” 

Tony could feel Stephen’s eyeroll, even in the semi-dark of the bedroom. He also noticed Stephen was still massaging his hands.

“Are your hands hurting, baby?” he asked.

“Mmm? Oh, yeah. They wake me up sometimes.”

That clicked into place in Tony’s mind. “That so? And does it always make you so… philosophical?”

“You mean this brilliant?” Stepehn retorted, but it was without any vigor. In fact, he sounded half asleep.

“That’s exactly what I meant. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You could buy the M&Ms.”

This time Tony didn’t stifle his laugh. “No, I meant for your hands, asshole.”

“Oh. No. They are alright now. I think I’m actually just gonna lay back down.”

“That sounds good.”

When Stephen had settled on his side, arms wrapped around the pillow he slept with to keep from jostling his hands too much, Tony snuggled up behind him, feeling sleep tugging at him as well.

The next time Tony got a late night text from Stephen, this time sharing his opinion that all gargoyles should be replaced by mirrors because the real horror lay within people, Tony didn’t reply. Instead, he set down the model he was fiddling with and went upstairs, eager to hear more of Stephen’s latest idea, then to hold him as he fell back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so amused by how up in arms everyone is about how they eat M&Ms, but no one is defending apples.  
Poor apples… ;)


End file.
